Here we are. Chronologically this is the eighth of Heinlein's juveniles chronologically and the third and final entry in this run of three re-reads for me, as well as the re-reading of a book for which the original reading was freshest out of any of these (I read this one in 2021). The next three posts here should all be about books I've never read before. So that's exciting. Before returning to this book, I'd noted that while Starman Jones and The Star Beast both exceeded my expectations based on prior memories of them, I didn't think that this one would be quite as good. More specifically, I said, "From my recollection, I do not think I'll rate it quite as highly, but it's also not going to be dead last. Probably somewhere in the middle, but we'll see."
That's kind of a low bar, and I think I know why. The end of this one is frustrating, and in notes that are very deliberate. Rod Walker refers to an Earth-based corporation pulling the rug out from under him, and it really feels like Heinlein pulls the rug out from under the reader too, so that we get a vivid sense of his anxiety. It's a bold technique, and I respect it, but it also really accentuates the bitterness in the bittersweet conclusion.
Reading this book directly after The Star Beast (something I had not done before) really drives home a certain theme that Heinlein delves into. Our culture, American culture and presumably its spiritual successors if we're optimistic about American hegemony in space colonization, and perhaps just Western culture in general has a tendency to treat adolescents as second-class citizens. We take children and, as they transition out of childhood, we run them through a gauntlet. We put them through trials and tribulations and impress upon them all the improvements they'll need to make in this new, adult world. But the moment it's convenient, we tell them that they're just kids and don't have rights anyway and need to listen when grownups are talking. And we justify it with all sorts of rationalizations, but it's bad. Like, this is really, really bad. I'm hoping something in the culture shifts to at least mitigate this issue, and I think Heinlein was hoping for that and using these stories to sort of lampoon the absurdity.
Ultimately, the ecology of "Tangaroa" in this book isn't as interesting as some of the other ecosystems that Heinlein devised. To some extent, the landscape is here in service of the narrative, and this is a landscape where a bunch of young people are stranded for two years, so the conditions have to be pretty mild.
I'd rate this as being one of the better stories so far. Glad I'm making that assessment after a re-read. I was recalling the gloomy bits and thought that I'd rate this one lower, but I ended up loving it right up to the moment of the rug-pull and feeling the full impact once the rug-pull happened. Of course it's still behind The Star Beast and The Rolling Stones. Knew it wouldn't dethrone either of those. Is it better than Starman Jones or Space Cadet? Hm, that's close. I'm calling it too close to call, but if pressed I'm pleading recency bias and giving the nod to Tunnel in the Sky.
I don't see "Critical Reception" for this one on Wikipedia. There's some comparison of the themes in this story to the ones in Lord of the Flies. I recall that the comparison piqued my interest and was what drew me to read this book back in 2021. I feel like the whole point of comparison is a stretch and that it's compounded by Lord of the Flies being published just a bit before Tunnel in the Sky, so folks were able to see it as a rebuttal or echo or whatever. But for my part, I'm unconvinced.
The next three books, starting with 1956's Time for the Stars are all brand new to me. And then we close the series out with two more re-reads.